


Of Girls and Victor Criss

by skepticallysighing



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Feminization, Gay, Homosexuality, Internalized Homophobia, Love, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, blonde twink, skinny love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skepticallysighing/pseuds/skepticallysighing
Summary: Belch likes girls. He's a heterosexual. He likes girls and definitely definitely only girls, not guys.(right?)





	Of Girls and Victor Criss

Belch Huggins didn’t have a type.

Any girl was a good one, he supposed. The tiny ones with the sweet giggles and big eyes, the chubby ones with plush lips and gentle touches, the ones who basked at the height of popularity, the ones who no one knew by name, it didn’t matter. The point was, they were all girls.

Girls were like tissues, soft and disposable, so why be picky?

He didn’t take girls home with him to meet his mama, no, not really. That’s not what he was looking for. Why would you want one girl and one girl alone when you could have one a week?

What a thought though, right? The idea of having one girl to yourself. He couldn’t imagine ever  _needing_  one girl, seeing someone and thinking “I admire that, and I want to protect that from harm”.

Girls were eye candy and nothing else, right? Belch didn’t need love.

Sometimes, when he sat with Vic outside of school, sharing the end of a cigarette, they’d watch the passing girls. While Vic watched her hair bounce, Belch would check just how much her tits bounced.

“Y’ can tell how smart a girl is by the size of her tits,” Belch had told Vic once. “If she’s flat, she’s real clever, an’ if she’s got tits like a cow, she’s as smart as one too!”

And of course, that was stupid. Belch knew how stupid that sounded. He immediately had regretted saying it, he shouldn’t have said a word, he s-

But Vic had started laughing, bringing a hand up to his soft lips, giggling away. Vic thought it was funny. Vic knew how dumb it was, but he still thought it was funny.

The blonde looked really beautiful like that, when he smiled so hard his eyes crinkled. Ethereal.

Not that Belch was gay, it wasn’t like that. It was a fact that Vic was pretty for a guy, like that Stanley Urine kid. Victor used to get picked on by Henry for how pretty he was, or maybe it was because of his braces.

Eh. It didn’t matter.

Belch didn’t care who they bullied and why. If Henry said to go beat up Tozier, Belch would do it without a thought. He knew he was slower than most guys, his teaches and his peers told him that much. That’s what made Henry such a good friend. Henry was  _smart_. Henry knew best.

He didn’t remember how Henry and Victor Criss became friends. It seemed like just yesterday when they had been cornering him during recess, shoving him up against the jungle-gym. Henry would never hurt him, no, because

Because he

Because Vic

 

He blinked.

He had lost his train of thought.

Well, the point was, Henry approved of Vic, and Vic was nice to Belch. Vic was honest; if he found something funny, he’d laugh, and if he didn’t like what Henry was doing, he’d speak up. Vic didn’t tell lies.

He had had that proven to him when they were walking down the street, delivering newspapers. Belch carried them, Vic threw them to the door. Vic was good at throwing things. And Vic was just listening to Belch talk while he threw things and smoked a cig. Something must have bothered him, because Belch suddenly said:

“Vic, do y’ think I’m dumb?”

“Huh? No, not really, Reg.”

They were quiet for a bit. Vic took a newspaper and threw it, watching it skid and land perfectly on the stoop of the Douglas household. Then the blonde kept talking.

“I mean, if anyone’s dumb, it’s Henry. He doesn’t think before he acts, you know? And he let’s people like Gard and Patrick hang around. You have morals, and you’re really in the moment. You’re not dumb at all.”

Vic had drawn his cigarette from his lips and blown smoke upwards, and the topic was over.

And maybe Belch had told a lie.

There was just one person who he’d look at and say “I admire that, and I want to protect that from harm”.

(And hell, he was right. Flat people are real smart, and Vic was so flat he was  _concave_.)

Not that he checked it out.

Because it  _wasn’t_  gay. Vic was his friend.

His  _friend._

Anyways, he liked girls. Big girls, small girls, tough girls, sissy girls. Girls girls  _girls_.

> (All these thoughts occurred while Belch was writing an essay for class.
> 
> Later on, Mrs. Douglas would be very confused as she read through his essay.
> 
>  “And even though we need to be nice to the indians, it’s also important to girls girls girls girls girls”)

##  _**GIRLS.** _

Right?

When he was at his locker after winter break, and spotted a head of long blonde hair, he had reacted appropriately and started checking her out.

He didn’t recognise the girl immediately. At first glance, he had thought she was Cissy Clarke, but now he knew better. Her hair was straight, bright blonde and resting around her cheeks in a bob. She wore a tanktop and jeans, like a tomboy. Her hands were in her back pockets, curving against her ass. And he couldn’t look away.

_Shit._

His thoughts didn’t get to go any further, because when he glanced up, the girl had turned to look at him.

No, no, wait.

Not a girl.

**_Shit._ **

He hadn’t had a clue that Victor Criss had grown his hair out over the winter break. He just hadn’t realised.

“Hey,” Vic had said, his eyes showing off nothing. If Victor knew Belch was staring right at his ass, he didn’t show it, the blonde was as unreadable as ever. “Got a smoke for me?”

“Yeah,” he said, but Belch had pivoted and ran before he could give Vic the cig, leaving the blonde mildly confused.

Belch Huggins had ran into the closest bathroom, thank god, it was empty. He shoved himself into the closest empty stall, back pressed up against the door, eyes falling shut.

Soft hair, pretty lips, pretty eyes, thin waist, honest and smart, big smile, big

(ass)

.

Oh god.

No, no, he liked girls-

No, maybe he just liked  _girly_  things.

Eitherways, somehow or other, Belch Huggins was gone for Victor Criss.


End file.
